When they finally pulled into her driveway, she expected the tension coiling in her muscles to relax, but it seemed only to wind tighter. The glow of dawn hugged the east horizon and reflected off the front windows of her house, making them glow like the eyes of a demonic beast.
“So what does this project entail?”
“Best case scenario, I plunge the basement drain and dislodge whatever is causing this.”
“Worst case?”
“I have to wade through sewage to reach that drain.”
Trent switched off the engine. His gaze scoured the front of her house, combing the Japanese yew out front, the shadows to the side of the garage. He unfastened his seat belt and unbuttoned his suit jacket. Reaching inside the jacket, he pulled a gun from his shoulder holster. “I’m going to check out the house. Stay close behind me.”
Risa’s chest tightened. “You think he might be here?”
“I’m not going to take the chance.”
Suddenly the risk of stirring old memories and pain by being near Trent didn’t seem so dangerous. Not compared with finding a serial killer in her house. “I’m right behind you.”
He held out his hand. “Keys?”
She rifled through her purse. Her trembling fingers closed over the keys’ sharp edges. She fished them out and dropped them into Trent’s open palm.
He turned away from her, opened the car door and climbed out in one fluid movement. She followed, falling in close behind.
Trent’s footsteps clicked on the cement walk, shattering the dawn stillness. He mounted the porch steps and thrust her key into the lock. He threw open the door, hesitating a moment before stepping into the house, gun barrel leading the way. Once inside he stopped dead. His body tensed. He swung his gun in front of him, as if combing every inch of the foyer.
Something was wrong.
Risa stepped up behind and peered around Trent’s shoulders.
At first she didn’t know what she was seeing. White fluff seemed to be everywhere in her little foyer. On the polished oak floor, on the shelf, on the antique bench. A breeze from outside caught the fluff and swept it toward the far corner.
Her pulse throbbed in her ears, the pieces coming together, and she realized what it was.
Her teddy bears. Her collection of teddy bears. They stared at her with shiny eyes, their usually round bodies depleted, empty. Slashed and empty.
Trent
Trent grasped Rees tight to his chest. The soles of their shoes scraped concrete as they shuffled backward down the sidewalk. He held the gun steady, scanning the shadows behind the yew, the low branches of the spruce. He could feel Dryden’s eyes on him. On Rees. He could almost hear the monster’s satisfied chuckle.
Dryden would want to see Rees’s reaction to the mutilated bears. He’d want to see her fear. He would feed on it. Revel in it. It would make him feel powerful.
And he’d hunger for more.
Reaching the rental car, Trent guided Risa into the passenger seat. “Lock yourself in.”
“You can’t go in there.”
“It’s my job. Lock yourself in and call 911.” He pressed the car keys into her palm. “If you see any sign of Dryden, get the hell out of here.”
He returned to the house. The door was still open. Bits of stuffing skated across hardwood, pushed by the breeze. Gun ready, he cleared as much of the foyer as possible before crossing the threshold. Then taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
Trent took the living and dining rooms first. Walking with bent knees, he held his weapon in front of him in both hands, sighting with his master eye. Before he entered, he stepped to the side, sweeping the area, one slice of the pie at a time, listening for a gasp of breath, a shuffle of feet. Making sure there was little chance of surprise, he then stepped into the room and checked his blind spots.
Around the corner.
Behind the couch.
Under the table.
He moved on to the kitchen, the sunroom, Risa’s home office. As soon as he opened the basement door, he smelled sewage. A legitimate backup, no doubt. Only caused by Dryden as a way to lure Risa back to her house.
A lure that worked.
The basement was cleared out, as Risa had said, any carpet, furniture, or storage boxes already taken victim by an earlier sewer backup. An inch of water pooled in the center of the floor. Confident Ed Dryden would never be wading in sludge, Trent headed back to the foyer and up to the second-floor bedrooms.
The spare room looked untouched. Comforter stretched smooth across the bed. Air a bit stale. Trent cleared the closet, and checked under the bed, and then headed for the master.
He cleared the room before stepping inside, as he had the others. So when he finally crossed the threshold to examine further, he wasn’t surprised.
The bed was a mess. Tangled sheets. A wet spot. A few smudges of blood. The smell of sex and sweat overpowering the scent of Risa’s room… the scent of lavender.
Drawers yawned open, Risa’s bras and panties hanging over the edges. A vibrator lay in the middle of the floor.
Trent cleared the bath, the closet, noticing each thing that was out of place. It could be anyone’s bedroom. Anyone’s house. He was doing his job. Nothing personal. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d eventually believe.
Dryden had been here, but he wasn’t any longer. And that bothered Trent. It made no sense.
The psychopath would never stage his little scene with the teddy bears and then miss Risa’s reaction. So where was he?
Not in the house. So where?
Outside.
Watching Risa.
Gun still ready, Trent hurried out of Risa’s bedroom, down the steps, out the door. His rental car was still here, Risa sitting in the passenger seat. As he approached, he heard the click of her unlocking the driver’s door.
Trent combed the shadows of trees and bushes, the rooflines of the neighboring houses one last time before ducking behind the wheel.
“What did you find?”
Trent pictured her bed, signs of sex, smears of blood. “You call 911?”
“They’re on their way. I called Cassidy, too. Let him know what was going on.”
“Good. Maybe they can find him.”
“He’s gone?” Risa asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We aren’t waiting around to find out.”
The engine turned over with a flick of the key. The car leaped to life.
He backed out of the driveway. Slowly. Calmly. It was all he could do to keep from stomping on the gas, squealing tires, and racing down the street. He hadn’t found Dryden, but the psychopath was still here. He wouldn’t be able to resist. He would want to watch.
And Trent had to get Risa out of here before Dryden got the impulse to do more.
Nikki
“Let the games begin.” Eddie watched Trent and Risa drive away from their vantage point just on the other side of the roof’s ridge.
When he’d been destroying Risa’s stupid teddy bears, he’d been giddy as a little kid. He’d been downright wild while going through Risa’s drawers and having sex in her bed. Now his face was dead serious, not a chuckle, not a smile.
The change had come over him as soon as he’d seen Nikki’s big sister walk up the sidewalk.
Nikki wasn’t sure what to think about any of it, and she had an uneasy feeling that it was better if she didn’t focus on it too hard.
“Back inside.” Eddie stood, and walked sure-footed down the slope to the dormer in the master bedroom where they had escaped.